Looking For Hope
by bookworm-from-oz
Summary: AU, AH. Can Edward recover, and find the hope he so desperately needs to survive? Rated M due to mentions of cutting and dark themes. Will not be E/B, except for friendship.
1. Chapter 1

Hi, this is the first multi-chapter fic I'm posting, and I would appreciate your support through it. It will not be Edward/Bella, only E/B friendship. Please review. Hope you enjoy. Maddison

Rated M for cutting (dark themes), to be safe.

I don't own Twilight, or any of it's characters, they all belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Edward POV

I sighed, watching the blood trickle down my arms, before wiping it away forlornly. What did it matter, anyway? I could just end it now, it would be better for everyone that way. To be honest, I was surprised that no-one had noticed yet, particularly Carlisle, he is a doctor, after all. And Bella, who is so observant, even though you wouldn't know it with her being so quiet.

But then again, they were all just seeing what I wanted them to see, mostly. Bella only ever wanted to see the best in people, never believing anyone could be less than gentle with themselves, and Carlisle, well, I don't really know what Carlisle thought. Esme was a lot like Bella, only a lot more motherly, and worried a lot more. It wasn't as if my adoptive family thought I was a happy-go-lucky teen, or anything. They knew me better than that, at least.

I had come to live with Carlisle, Esme, and Bella when I was nine, eight years ago, after being in the foster care system for a year. I was lucky, getting adopted into a good home, with caring, loving parents, and a friendly sister, not everyone was that lucky. It was only in the past five years that I had begun to wish someone else was lucky, instead of me, so I could stop being a burden to such lovely people.

They knew nothing about my past, only that both my parents were dead, and I had come into the system with next to no possessions. I don't know what drove me to cut, only that I could never stop, and the feeling of it was like no other. I didn't _want_ to stop. That's why I told no-one. They would all think I'm crazy, and try to make me stop. If I stopped I would die.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day; the day I finally had the courage to kill myself. I had it all planned out, once I found the courage there would be no way of stopping me. Maybe, hopefully, tomorrow.

I woke up as I did every day, unwilling to continue on with life. I was in so deep that normally I had no will to do anything, and just did what I did do because it was expected of me. I felt numb, inside and out, the only thing that could take away that numbness was one of my blades. I didn't feel tired, but I didn't feel awake, either. I wasn't truly alive, I was just... existing. I was never hungry, I only ever ate at dinner, to stop Carlisle and Esme from worrying too much, and even then I didn't eat that much. It wasn't that I was worried about my weight, or how I looked or anything, I just wasn't hungry. Breakfast and lunch were easy to get out of, just saying I'd pick something up on the way to school, then saying I'd had a big breakfast. I wasn't worried about it, why eat if you are not hungry, and eating just makes you feel as though you're so full you're going to be sick?

I knew the Cullen's were worried about me, but I couldn't bring myself to really care. They just thought I was quiet by nature, and had never fully got over the death of my parents. That was true, in a way, I had always been quiet, and my parents had been wonderful people, they didn't deserve to die, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, getting hit by a drunk driver on the way back from one of their nights out. I was told they would have died instantly. I didn't have some sob story about why I hated life, and cut, it was just something I did.

I dressed quickly, in my normal dark wash jeans, Cons, and a dark long sleeved shirt, grabbing a similarly coloured jumper before heading downstairs and grabbing my school bag. I muttered a quick goodbye to Carlisle and Esme before grabbing my car keys, and leaving. Bella and I each had our own cars; Bella owned a blue car of some foreign brand, very cute and girly, while mine was a black, second hand (I refused to let Carlisle get me a new, good quality car when there was no telling how much longer I'd be here for, not that he knew that as my reasoning) Holden. I got some strange looks about it once everyone saw Bella's car, but I don't really care what anyone thinks.

It was only about a ten minute drive to get to school, and it passed very quickly and uneventfully. I got to school about five minutes before the bell, just enough time to get to my locker and then my roll call room. I tugged my sleeves down before stepping out of my car, I can only imagine someone's reaction if they saw me without a top on, and saw all the cuts and scars littering my arms, chest and abdomen. With Forks High lousy population of less than 800, it would be around the school in a day.

First three periods, English, History and Biology passed in a blur, nothing exciting happening, and nothing registering in my head. There were still four periods left, but I decided to skip. What did it matter, anyways, it's not as though I would be around for long enough to have any need of any of the stuff they try to teach anyway.

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What do you think? Should I continue?

Thanks


	2. Chapter 2

Hi. I'm surprised at myself for getting this chapter up so quickly, I don't think I'll be able to keep it up though. I won't have too many chapters like this, where it changes POV, or very many where it isn't EPOV, but I wanted to show how other people view Edward not just how Edward views himself. This is dedicated to rpatziswayhotterthantaylor who was the first (and so far only) person to review. Reviews make me want to write more *hint hint*.

I don't own anything...

Jasper POV

I walked into my 3 unit maths class slightly late. Bella had distracted me, so I hadn't heard the bell ring. Beautiful, beautiful Bella... She was worried about Edward again. It seemed like she was always worried about him. I mean, sure, he was a little withdrawn, and strange but that's just the way he seemed to be naturally.

Glancing around the room, I noticed that Edward wasn't in his usual seat, or anywhere in the room for that matter. Maybe Bella was right to be concerned, this was a regular occurrence. He would turn up to school, stay two, maybe three periods then leave again. I'm sure Carlisle and Esme had been told by now, but they didn't seem to do anything about it, or if they did, Edward certainly didn't pay any attention to them. His grades were definitely going to suffer, I mean, he was never at school for more than half a day!

I would tell Bella that he had left at lunch, next, not that she wouldn't be expecting it. Edward really needed to learn that other people were affected by his actions as well, not just him. He was hurting Bella, who I loved more than anything else in this world, so was therefore hurting me, and I am sure Carlisle and Esme were hurting as well.

Sighing, I started listening to Mr Gong, my maths teacher, for the rest of the period.

* * *

At lunch, Bella attempted to call Edward, as she did every lunch, but as usual, it went straight to his voice mail, and today also came up with a message saying that they were sorry, but his voicemail was full. I wondered if he ever even turned his phone on, or if it was hidden in some dark corner of his room, never to be thought of again. She then tried her house phone, knowing that Carlisle and Esme were both at work, so if anyone picked up, it would be Edward, but again, no answer.

I watched hopelessly as tears filled Bella's eyes, just wishing that I could do something to help, but there was nothing I could do, aside from hold her and try to comfort her. Damn you Edward, take a look at what you're doing to the people around you.

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Carlisle POV

I groaned as I heard my name being called over the loudspeaker, summoning me to the reception desk. I knew what is about; it was the same every day. The voice on the other end of the line confirmed what I already knew: Edward was skipping and was nowhere to be found. I went through my normal routine after the call, calling Edward's mobile, then the house phone, but, as usual, there was no reply from Edward. I called Esme to let her know, but there was nothing we could really do about it.

We had tried taking his car away, and making him ride with Bella, but he still found a way to disappear. We had looked for him, at first, checking all the normal spots for skipping teens to hide, and the no-so-normal as well. But it was hopeless, he was never found. We would get a call every day, and every day he would disappear, only to be found again, camped out in his room, but only after school was well and truly over.

Edward must think that we don't know, or care, but we do. Even though he isn't my biological son, I still love him just as much as I would if he were. Esme cried herself to sleep, almost every night, wondering what she had done wrong to make him act the way he did. She couldn't accept that it wasn't her fault, and she had done nothing wrong. It was just the way he was.

He never really communicated with us, he would just sit there, staring into space, not noticing anything going on around him, or being said to him. The only time he ever spent with the family was at dinner, even on weekends. All the rest of the time he would lock himself away in his room, where we had no chance of getting to him, because he had brought the lock himself, and made sure that he had the only key.

He never spent any of his allowance, or money that he had saved away. The only time he ever got new things was when Esme brought him new clothes, or books, and at Christmas. Esme and I had given up on giving him any bright clothing, or short and short sleeves. If we got him anything other than his normal, dark, loose clothes he would never wear them, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had never touched half his books.

Bella never gave up though, at Christmas she always got him bright and colourful stuff, even though he never touched any of it. She worried about him, and rightly so. He barely ever talked, we had known him for years, and only ever heard him say what a normal person would in a week. He barely touched his food, shifting it around on his plate, and eating small bites every now and then, never eating more than half his serve. And he always had such a sad, hopeless look in his eyes, that no matter what we did we could never get rid of.

I just wish he would open up to me and let me help him.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi... again. The only reason another chapter is up so soon is because I am at home sick, and have nothing better to do than write. As I said earlier, I doubt it is going to become a habit. Please review!!

I don't own anything, anything recognisable belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Edward POV

As I drove off, I wondered what the point was. I knew they never looked for me anymore; they had given up on punishing me for skipping school, because they knew that nothing they did would or could stop me. Performing a quick – and illegal – u-turn I sped off in the opposite direction to where I was originally headed, now heading towards the house. Today, I think, I will finally put one of my plans into action...

With this resolve in mind I pushed my Holden almost to its limits as my body was fuelled with the desire to finally end it. I walked into the house, thankful Esme wasn't there, sometimes she spent the day working from home, and I was grateful that today wasn't one of those days. Sitting on my bed, I grabbed my box out from its hiding place underneath my bed. If anyone had ever found this box, I would have been dead before they got over the shock of what was in it.

There was my collection of blades, closing in on twenty, along with a small container of sleeping pills, from when Carlisle decided he would put me on them. He had thought I wasn't sleeping properly, a few years after I had started to live with them, he took me off the pills pretty quickly when he saw that they were having next to no effect. He didn't realise that the reason they had no effect was because I didn't need them, I always slept well, sleep being my only escape from the world that I don't wish to live in, and if I ever couldn't sleep, I would just cut myself enough that I would pass out, but not die. So instead, I planned ahead, never actually taking the pills, instead hiding them in my box for the day when I would use them in one of my attempts. Carlisle never knew I didn't take them. Over the years I had got very good at hiding things.

There was also a list. It was about fifteen points long, and all the points were well thought out, and would hopefully be successful. I wasn't silly enough to think that I was certain of succeeding the first time I tried to kill myself, so I had multiple plans; aside from the first one, all of which didn't need blades or pills to put into motion. I made sure that they wouldn't need very much to succeed, because if my first attempt was unsuccessful, then they were likely to take away anything they thought I could use.

I carefully hid all of my blades but one around my room, so that even if they found the soon to be empty box, I would still have them, and I placed the list in a plastic sleeve, before hiding it in a slit in my mattress. I took the box of pills out and hid it in a clean pair of socks. Hopefully no-one will find any of the stuff I just hid.

I double and triple checked that my door was locked, and sat at my desk. I contemplated writing them a note, but what would I say to them? There was nothing I wanted to tell them, and nothing I wanted them to know. So I skipped the whole idea of a note.

I checked the time: 12.35pm... Was that long enough? I should still have at least two hours before anyone else would be home, and it would take them at least an hour to figure out that something was wrong... Yes, I did have time, I decided.

My actions and thoughts suddenly slowed down. Why was I rushing this so much? It was something I had wanted for so long, and now it was finally time, why should I rush things, risk not doing it properly, and not savour the moment?

The only blade I had not hidden was my favourite, the sharpest and smoothest of them all. I held it now, lovingly in my hand, before laying it down on my made bed so I could take off my top, I didn't want anything getting in the way, or possibly slowing my blood flow.

I propped my pillows up against the end of my bed, and sat, leaning against them. I started with my left arm first, two deep, long, parallel cuts, running from my wrist, going three quarters of the way to my elbow. I heard a car come down the driveway and stop, but thought nothing of it, it was probably just Esme getting home early from work. I doubt she would come check on me.

I was starting to get a bit dizzy from blood loss, so I thought I should quickly finish the job. I created identical cuts on my right wrist, slumping back against my pillows, and almost happily watched my life force drain out of me, staining my bed sheets, and dripping onto my floor. I vaguely registered someone knocking on my bedroom door, before I drifted off into unconsciousness for what was hopefully the last time...

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This is not the end, still got a bit more to go, please don't give up on it.

Maddison


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4... hope you enjoy, please read and review... please... with cream... and cherries? Maddison

Anything that you recognise belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Edward POV

The first thing I noticed was an annoying beeping sound. Then it was the exhausting sluggishness that had taken over my body. I blinked a few times, my eyes getting used to the harsh brightness of the room I was in. Once I had gained awareness of my surroundings, I realised that I must have failed. The generic white walls, the machines surrounding me as well as Esme, Carlisle and Bella sitting tiredly on plastic chairs around the bed I was in were all a pretty good indication that I was in a hospital.

The next thing that grabbed my attention was my inability to move my arms or legs, or to sit up, for that matter. I angled my head, so I could see my body properly and groaned. My legs were strapped to the bed, as if to prevent me kicking, or something. My arms were tightly wrapped in white bandages to the elbows, secured to the bed at both my elbows and wrists. There was another restraint across my chest, preventing me from sitting up.

I struggled against the restraints, hating the feeling of being out of control, trying in vain to break the restraints or _something_, just to get me out of them. My family noticed my struggles and smiled sadly at me. I pleaded with my eyes to them to help me, to let me out, but they just silently shook their heads at me.

I attempted to talk to them, to plead with them, if it came to that, to let me out and forget that anything ever happened, but when I tried to speak my throat was too dry and sore to form any words, except for an odd scratchy sound. I guess someone must have hit the call button, because just then a doctor walked in.

"Hello Edward. It's good to see that you are awake. You have been unconscious for four days, after your mother found you and called an ambulance. You will only be released from your restraints when it is time for your meals; they are there for your own safety as well as ours. I am guessing that your throat is probably very sore, drink water slowly to relieve that."

And with that he shot me a condescending look, before walking out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Esme held a cup (plastic, of course) of water up to m lips, tilting it so a small mouthful of the water trickled into my mouth. After repeating this process a couple of times my throat finally felt normal enough to talk.

My voice came out in a soft whisper, and sounded a bit off, but it was better than not being able to talk at all.

"Why am I here?" I asked, hoping that they would be fooled, and think that I didn't have anything to do with the cuts on my arms.

"I think you know why, Edward," Carlisle started. No such luck then. "Esme came home from work early, and saw your car in the garage. When she couldn't find you in the house, and you bedroom door was locked, she assumed that you must have been in there. When she got no response she broke the lock on your door. She saw you and called an ambulance straight away. The doctors say that along with the four main cuts that you were bleeding from, they found evidence and scars from hundreds of other, smaller cuts, all over you body. Would you mind explaining this?"

The way he said that last sentence implied that even though he was asking, I didn't really have much choice; he would force me to tell him everything, one way or another. But I wasn't going to give in. I didn't have to tell them anything. It's not like they're my family or anything. So I told them just that.

"I don't have to answer to you, or tell you anything!! You're not my family!! You can't make me!!" I started thrashing round again, trying desperately to get out. When I got out of the hospital I am going to run away, go somewhere where they will never find me, kill myself, and never come back!! They couldn't stop me! I was going to kill myself no matter what!

Why should I stay on this world when there was nothing here for me? I had no family, no friends, no hopes or dreams, nothing. No-one wanted me here anyway. They would all be better off if they had never met me, and seeing as I can't go back in time and make them never meet me, I can do the next best thing and remove myself from their lives, and stop me from ruining anyone else's. If I'm not here, I can't hurt them, waste their money, time and energy with them always having to look out for me. The world would be a better place without me in it. I just hoped that I had hid my stuff well enough that they would have no chance of finding it; I think I had, but if they looked too closely they might find things that they never needed to.

They could keep living their happy, innocent lives once I was gone. Only this time they wouldn't have the horrible, damaging black stain ruining them that was me. They could keep thinking that they could make the world a better place, and that there was so much less violence and hate than what there was, but I knew better, and I was just a constant reminder that not everyone is like them. They would be better off without me tarnishing them, just like I tarnish and ruin everything that I ever touch, or come into contact with.

I deserve to die, and no-one can stop me.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi again. Being sick really is a pain, isn't it. Anyways, here is chapter 5, hope you enjoy, and please review.

I don't own Twilight or it's characters, they all belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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Edward POV

They still hadn't let me out of the hospital or my restraints, though they said I would be released and free to go back to the house tomorrow. I had been awake for four days, and had been constantly watched ever since. It was maddening, never having a second without someone scrutinising you every move. I just hope that they will observe me less once we get back.

I hadn't cut in over a week. The four big cuts had been just enough to tide me over for the first day, but no longer than that. I was going crazy. I needed to cut. I didn't care what happened when we got home, the first second I was out of view of everyone I was going to cut. I couldn't even scratch at myself to get some relief, with my arms strapped down as they were.

I could feel every cell of blood flowing through my veins. It was disgusting. It felt like someone had replaced all my blood with acid, which I needed to get out of my body through a cut. It boiled and scratched, flowing just beneath my skin, practically _begging_ to be let out, but I physically could not get rid of it.

I felt so bloated as well. They had made sure that I had eaten three full meals every day, and there was nothing I could do to avoid it. I felt so _full_ but they just kept stuffing me with more and more food.

My body felt horrible. I had had no way of finding release in the past few days, I had been force-fed until I was ready to throw up, and I had no privacy whatsoever. It was my personal version of hell.

Carlisle and Esme were mad at me. There was no other way to describe their faces when they looked at me. Angry and disappointed. I knew that once we got back I would be in for a long talking to, and there would be no escaping it. Oh well, I could deal with it as long as they didn't tie me to the wall or something. I knew they would try to get me to talk to someone, not that it would do me any good; there was no hope for me. I was a lost cause, why couldn't they just see that and let me die?

It wasn't fair! I had heard many stories of people being sent off to foster homes where their carers couldn't care less about them. Why couldn't I have been sent to one of those homes, chosen by one f those people, then I would easily be able to kill myself because they wouldn't care about me.

I read a good poem once, my favourite one. I think it explains my situation perfectly:

_Is there hope?_

_Or is there none at all?_

_For most there is hope_

_But my time for that_

_Has passed long ago_

_Never to return again_

_

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_

I was right, the second we got back Carlisle dragged me off to his office, not giving me any choice in the matter or asking if there was anything I wanted to do before talking to him. I wondered if he would jump straight to the point, or try to hint at the topic, to see if I would make the first move. No matter what he did, I promised myself that I wouldn't tell him anything. My action plan was silence, I would not answer any of his questions with a vocal response, and if I could help it, I wouldn't give him any answers with my body language either.

He must have decided to not beat around the bush, just jump straight in. He started with what he probably thought was the easiest question to answer, but really it wasn't.

"Why did you do it?"

I carefully tried to keep my expression blank, so it didn't reveal anything, and stared at the wall behind his head. I had read somewhere that it unnerves people if you look at their ear, so I decided to focus on that instead. Carlisle just ignored it... for now.

When he saw that he wasn't going to get a response from me he continued.

"Will you tell me anything?"

He must be stupid if he thought I was. Silence remained my answer. He gave up with the questions, good thing too; all they were doing was wasting my time, and making me wait longer before I could cut again.

He sighed in resignation before speaking again.

"Well, as you're not going to answer any of my questions, I will just lay down some new rules for you. You must let someone know where you are at all times. No more skipping school. You must always have the door to whatever room you are in open. Your phone always needs to be on, and you are not to ignore any of our calls. You will see a psychiatrist twice a week, you will not miss any of the sessions and you will talk to them. You will give Esme and I all your blades and you will not get any more. To make sure you can't get any more your credit cards will be confiscated, as well as any cash you have on you, and your allowance will be stopped.

You will not self-harm any more, and to check this I will examine your body for any new signs of harm three times a week. Do you understand?"

I didn't reply, and tried to keep my face remaining blank, but it was hard. Inside I was seething, how could they do this to me! I decided there and then that I would not obey any of those rules if I could help it.

I left the room without saying anything, and quickly walked into my room, stubbornly and obviously closing the door behind me. I turned off my phone, and left it lying prominently on my desk. I grabbed one of my blades out of its hiding spot, concealing it in one of my pockets. I opened my window and carelessly climbed out of it, not caring if I got hurt, only that I was quiet so they didn't know that I had escaped.

I was directly violating their rules, but I couldn't care less. Why not show them that I could and would easily break all of their new rules?


	6. Chapter 6

One in Carlisle's POV for you all. Hope it gives you some insight to how they all react to Edward running away. Please review... Maddison

Twilight and all its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, I'm just playing with them.

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Carlisle POV

I knew I was going to have to seriously talk Edward very soon, and not just let him get away without answering my questions again, but it was so hard. I didn't want to do anything that might upset him, he was in a very fragile state of mind at the moment, and I didn't want to say or do anything that might cause him to do something drastic... again.

The rules I had given him shouldn't be too hard to police, the only hard one would be making sure he didn't manage to get hold of any objects that he could use to harm himself. We had already installed a lock onto the draw holding all the knives, so he couldn't access that, but getting him to give us his blades may be a bit hard.

Unsurprisingly Edward had stormed from the room once I had finished laying out the rules for him. I was rather hurt that he felt that he couldn't talk to me, and I wish I knew what I had done or didn't do to make him feel that way. I went to follow him, it had been a few minutes, but I assumed he had gone to his room. On my way there Esme intercepted me, hoping I had gotten some information out of Edward, and she was very disappointed when I told her I had nothing. How Edward had gotten so good at concealing his emotions and thoughts I did not know, it must have been a skill that he had learnt over time.

I wish I had noticed how he was hurting himself; the doctors had said that, from the scarring, it looked as though he had been severely harming himself for years. I live with him and I'm a doctor, I should have noticed! And he was my son!

Sighing, I continued on my way to Edward's room. When I got there I was annoyed to see that the door was closed, I would have to do something about his blatant disregard of the rules.

I opened the door without knocking; I didn't want to give him any unnecessary warning in case he was doing _something_ to himself. I didn't want to give him time to hide it.

I looked around the room in surprise. Edward was no-where to be seen, and the window was wide open. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he had climbed out the window. Hang on... This was the second floor! What if he had hurt himself!

I ran urgently to the window and looked out of it, praying that I wouldn't find the mangled body of my son on the ground beneath me. I took a thorough glance over the backyard but didn't see him anywhere. I breathed a sigh of relief before remembering that I still didn't know where he was, and who knew what he was doing to himself!

I ran downstairs faster than I had ever run anywhere before, urgently yelling to Esme and Bella if they had seen Edward since he came out of my study. When I got negative answers from both of them I tried to calm myself down slightly. It would do no-one any good if I lost my head.

It was decided that Esme would stay at the house in case Edward came back, and Bella would come with me to try to find Edward. Esme wanted to come instead of Bella, but Bella argued that she would know more of the popular teenage hangouts.

Someone had the idea to call Edward, but it went straight to his voicemail, and I vaguely remembered seeing Edward's phone on his desk when I went into his room.

After driving all around Forks and still not finding him Bella and I hopelessly returned home, to still no Edward, even after three hours. I went up to my study while Esme and Bella called everyone to see if they had seen him.

This was all my fault, I realised. I had pushed him to do this. He had even done things to show me that it was my fault. He had done everything I had just told him not to, close the door, turned off his mobile and left it behind, and not told anyone where he was going. Then he had also obeyed one of them, obviously just to spite me, he had left his wallet behind and had taken out the money and cards, leaving them on his desk next to his car keys.

I shouldn't have approached him; I should have just let him be, and kept an eye on him, never letting him out of my sight. I pushed him to do this, and now we had no idea if we would ever see him alive again.

Why did I have to push him too far?


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter is for SagePunkSom, the second person to review. I'm so happy, someone actually reviewed!!

You all know it doesn't belong to me.

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Edward POV

I walked back into the house, at least five hours after I had left. I knew I didn't have to go back and that I would probably be in trouble when I did, but I needed to show them that they couldn't control me. They could lay down all the rules that they liked, but they really had no control over me at all. I knew they had tried to find me, but couldn't, which just showed the lack of control they had over me. I was in full control of my life... mostly. They could try to stop me from cutting, or suicide, or running away, but they couldn't. And there was no way in hell they were taking away my blades!

I ignored everyone trying to stop me and continued blankly up to my room, shoving my bin next to the door. They had already taken off my lock, and I knew that if they really wanted to get in the bin wouldn't stop them for long, but it was the best I could do on such short notice.

Since my little expedition the itching under my skin had eased slightly, but not that much. I was never going to go a week without cutting again – it was torture. I was sure that everyone had at least some idea of what I had done while I had been out, it's not like I had tried to hide it at all. I knew the blood from the new cuts in my collection would have soaked through my shirt in multiple places, but I didn't care. The itching, which had relented for a while, was now back in full force. Another side effect of not cutting for a week, I suppose, it would be a while and many good cuts before the itching fully went away, I knew. And after that it would go back to the normal few hours between itches, and therefore, between cutting sessions.

I quickly went around my room, checking all my hiding spots to see if any of my blades had been removed, or the pills taken, luckily though, none of them were. Since Carlisle was going to demand possession of my blades I moved four of them to the top draw of my bedside table. If I gave those to him and pretended that they were all the ones I had it may stop them from searching my room and reduce the risk of them finding more of them. Hopefully it would also get them to think I was going to co-operate with them, even though I wasn't, so they would supervise me less, and maybe take away some of my restrictions, and maybe give me my car back.

I knew I would only have a few minutes before Carlisle would come up and try to talk to me again, so I would have to be quick, but that didn't matter. I took the blade that was still in my pocket, pulled up my sleeve and savagely slashed at the skin there a few times, before the itching subsided again. I knew that because of my recent abstinence it wouldn't last long, but it was better than nothing.

As expected the second I hid the blade and sat down on my bed the doorknob turned and the door shifted forward slightly before coming into contact with the bin. The bin only held out for a second or two before Carlisle or whoever was at the door shoved harder and knocked the bin over, allowing the door to open.

It was Carlisle, but he didn't look angry, as I had expected him to. Well, that was a lie, he did look a bit angry, he also looked a bit disappointed, but the main emotion on his face was guilt? Why would he feel guilty?

"Why do you look guilty?" I really, really wanted to know. If he were blaming himself for me cutting or running away or attempting suicide then I would have to tell him that it wasn't his fault, because it wasn't and I didn't need him feeling all guilty and self-piteous because of it. If he were blaming himself for not noticing sooner, then he could blame away because that kinda was his fault. Not that he was distant or anything, I was just too good at hiding it.

"I feel guilty because I should have noticed earlier what you were doing to yourself, and stopped you, and because I pushed you too far earlier, in my study, and didn't think that it would have negative consequences." I was shocked at his honesty before I realised that he was probably just being so truthful to try to get me to trust him and so the same. I shrugged, neither of the reasons he had given weren't his fault, so I wasn't going to try to make him think otherwise.

He continued, "I know that at the moment I'm not going to get any results if I try to talk to you, so I'm not even going to try. However I am going to lock your window, and leave your door open, and if you change either of these things you will be severely punished. You are not to leave this room, unless it is to go to the bathroom, and even then you must tell one of us, until the morning when I will come and talk to you again." I watched as he went over to my window and locked it. "You will also hand over all the blades in ou possession now, or you can look forward to sleeping in my room tonight, and every night until you do, as well as being under constant supervision."

Without a word I reached in to the draw where I had placed the four blades I had removed from their hiding spots earlier. I grabbed them, not taking any care at all and cutting my hand in a few places before dropping them in Carlisle's waiting hand. I was sad to see them go, but at least I had made sure that they were some of my least favourite.

Carlisle glared openly at the fresh cuts on my hand, and at the blood that was seeping through my shirt before ordering me to get downstairs so he could bandage them up properly. I just remained sitting where I was, giving no outward indication that I had heard him. When he saw that I wasn't going to move he angrily grabbed my arm and dragged me downstairs.

When we got there I noticed that Bella's boyfriend, Jasper was over. Interesting. I was sure that she had told him everything about me, from my suicide attempt and cutting to my recent running away, I could see it in the way he looked at me; as if he felt sorry for me. I can't imagine why anyone would feel sorry for me, I mean, I did it to myself and I wanted to do it, so it's not as if I had given them any reason to feel sorry for me. The only thing I felt sorry about was that I had failed in my attempt, but I doubted anyone else would feel sorry about that.

Carlisle had expertly bandages today's cuts and sent me back upstairs, where I had promptly taken the bandages off them. Why bandage them? Any excess bleeding would just help speed up my death, same with any infection. So, bandaging them didn't make much sense to me.


	8. Chapter 8

OK, so i decided to post this one now, because the last chapter looked pretty unfinished. Probably because this is meant to be a direct continuation, just in a different POV, because otherwise it wouldn't make sense.

I think by now everyone knows that I don't own Twilight.

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Jasper POV

After Edward had gone back upstairs I turned back to Bella. She had told me everything about Edward, and I wanted to talk to him, even though we had never spoken more than ten words in our lives. He probably didn't want to talk to me though, but that didn't really matter. I knew I would take a while to talk to him, but we had a while, it was only 4pm, and I had permission to stay here overnight anyway.

It took me about five minutes to convince Bella to let me go up to talk to him, because I wouldn't tell her why. She didn't need to know, it was all in the past now, and it didn't need to effect her in any way. I spent another five minutes convincing Carlisle to let me go up, and he warned me not to say anything that could aggravate him and cause him to harm himself anymore.

What I found when I got to his room was a very sad sight. His door was open, as he probably wasn't allowed it closed. The bandages the Carlisle had just put on him were lying abandoned on the floor, and Edward was hiding in the corner mostly hidden when you first glanced in the room. I was immediately concerned as he had a small container of pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other, it was pretty clear what he was planning on doing.

I panicked. I yelled his name, forcing him to automatically look around. When he saw me he guiltily and nervously hid the container somewhere, I couldn't see where, and sculled the glass of water.

"Did you take any?" I asked, trying to make my tone as gentle as possible so he would feel less need to lie to me. Even if he did lie, I was usually quite good at reading people's emotions, and could therefore usually tell if someone was lying to me. He shook his head, telling the truth.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked, knowing that no matter what his answer was I would still talk to him. He nervously nodded his head. I continued with my questioning. I wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible, and see that I wasn't a threat.

"Do you want to sit on your bed, or somewhere else that you feel comfortable, or do you just want to stay where you are?"

He softly replied, "The bed."

I nodded, and gestured for him to go first and make himself comfortable. I made a quick detour to the door, shutting it firmly, explaining myself to him.

"They shouldn't mind if I'm in here with you, and I would prefer some privacy, and I'm sure you would too."

I took a deep breath. I could do this. It would be the first time I told anybody about this, but it was for a good cause. If I could get Edward to feel more comfortable around me, as if he could trust me and I can understand how he feels then it's worth it.

"Ok, so what has Bella told you about me?" I asked once we were both comfortable.

"Only that you're her boyfriend and are our age." He replied.

"Before I start, I want you to know that I will only tell you the truth. I don't want you to feel pressured to tell me anything, but anything you do tell me, I will never tell another soul, no matter what it is."

"Not even Bella?"

"Not even Bella." I confirmed. At his answering nod I continued.

"When I was twelve my mother died. It was purely an accident and everything though. Now I was always a mummy's boy, and I lived to make my mum happy. When she was happy, I was happy. When she died I was so... dismayed. I didn't want to live any more, but I never even thought of suicide. I guess I always knew I wouldn't have been able to do it."

I flipped my wrist over revealing the solitary scar marring it, and continued. I noticed Edward's eyes were drawn to the scar, and never left it.

"I have never told anyone this, so it's slightly hard for me to tell you, so you'll have to forgive me. One day I fell off my bike and cut my wrist, purely accidently. But it felt good. I kept picking at it, never allowing it to heal, and, I guess, making it deeper and deeper. The cut, which would have normally taken about a week to fully heal, took over two months. Now, whenever anyone, even Bella, asks about it I just tell them I got it from falling off my bike.

I never purposely cut myself again, I was too scared to. But I did harm myself in other ways. I would purposely bruise all up my arms and legs. I did it for almost a year, until one day I realised that my mum wouldn't have wanted me to hurt myself, and I have never done anything like that to myself since.

But I know how you feel. I don't know the reason why you cut, or anything like that, but I do know how you feel. If you ever want someone to talk to, I'll always be available, no matter what time, alright?" That was hard to tell someone, but now I felt surprisingly lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I waited for Edward's response.

"I don't do it because of my parents."

"Thank you for telling me, for trusting me even that little bit. It doesn't make a difference that you do it for a different reason than what I did though; I still know how you feel." "I know. Thank you for telling me. I won't tell anyone, I promise." I knew he wouldn't tell anybody what I had told him, because he knew what it was like to have a secret you wanted nobody to know. Even though what I did was a long time ago, and it barely affected me at all today, it would still affect how people think about me and how they treated me.

"I know."

"Jasper, do you think that maybe, we could talk more often? Like this I mean?" The fear in his voice was heartbreaking. He was scared of my response.

"Of course. If you ever want to talk, you just need to call me, and if I can I'll be over as soon as possible, ok, and if I can't we can just talk on the phone for however long you want. I don't mind what time, if you need to talk you just call me. I don't care if it is 2 in the morning. As long as you are willing to talk, I'm willing to listen. And I've already said I won't tell anybody anything you say to me, and I mean it. I'm not like those psychiatrists who just tell you that and then report back anything of importance you tell them to your parents." I wanted to ask him for the bottle of pills I had seen him with earlier, but I didn't want to push him, and make him feel pressured or uncomfortable.

"Thank you." His voice was a sigh of relief, and he stood, turning his back to me, obviously ready for me to leave. I could see that interacting with me just the little bit he did, as well as telling me that one small bit of information that I so highly prized had really taken its toll on him.

"Just one more thing, Edward. Please don't do anything to extreme tonight? I want you to still be alive in the morning; you can still cut as much as you want, as long as you stay alive." That sounded a lot worse out loud than what it did in my head, I thought, wincing.

He nodded his head minutely, and I scribbled my mobile number on a piece of paper before leaving the room, half closing the door behind me to give him at least some privacy.


	9. Chapter 9

Not much to say... Hope you enjoy it!

I don't own anything.

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Edward POV

I was surprised that Jasper had tried to talk to me. He was pretty good at making me feel comfortable though. I think I may be able to grow to trust him, it was a very brave move on his part to tell me everything he did about himself; I would have never expected him to have done any of that stuff. Then again, we had never really spoken before. Which is why I am surprised he told me. I wonder if he was lying when he said that no-one else knew about it. I guess I would have to wait and see when they came up to talk to me again, as they would undoubtedly ask me about our conversation.

I had already made the decision not to tell anybody. Why would I? I knew what it was like to have your every move watched like a hawk, people not trusting anything you do because they find out one small, inconsequential fact about you. Even though Jasper had done it years ago, if anyone found out, for a while or at least until he managed to convince them he wasn't like that anymore, people would try to over-analyse every mark on his body.

It was surprising that he wanted to talk to me; I would have thought that everyone but my family would avoid me like the plague, just because I did something they couldn't understand. Jasper must be the exception, everyone else was sure to avoid me even more than what they had already done now.

At first I thought that I had been lucky, that he hadn't noticed the container of pills that I had been about to take. But what he said at the end made me realise that he had seen them, and guessed exactly what I was going to do with them. I would have to hide them again now. I had only promised to still be alive in the morning, after all. No-one said anything about still being stuck here after today.

I had been so close! And I was sure that this time I would be successful. If they walked in on me they would have thought I was just sleeping. It was a fool-proof plan, but Jasper just had to go walk in on me, didn't he. It wasn't fair.

Jasper had said that he understood how I felt, and I guess he did, but only a little bit. He had cut himself once, and he knew why he was doing it at the time. I had cut myself over a thousand times, easy. And I had no idea why I did it, only that it was the only thing that felt good, and different from numbness. He had said that I could talk to him. What would I tell him? That I don't know _why_ I did it? That I didn't want to stop? He would look at me as if I were a freak, tell everybody everything I had told him and never talk to me again. I don't know why I had asked if we could talk again, only that when he was talking to me I felt slightly calmer, knowing that there was someone who could and would listen and maybe relate a tiny bit, but not go off and tell the world anything I told him.

I knew he wouldn't tell anyone anything I told him, because he had willingly given me private information on himself, that he knew if people found out he would be treated very differently. But did that mean I would be able to talk to him? I don't know... I was so used to not telling anybody anything, keeping it all bottled up inside me I don't think I could actually share anything. Would I be able to do it after getting to know him more, and learning to trust him? Would he think I was lying? I think most people would, if I told them that I don't know why I did it, but would he? He seemed different for some reason.

But why would I want to talk to him? I mean, it's not as though I want to get better. All I have wanted to do for years is to die. Maybe he would help? That would be good. How would he though? It would have to be in a way so that he had nothing really to do with it. I didn't want him to get into trouble for murder or anything like that. What if I got him to buy blades and pills for me? That could work. I know I have next to no chance of being able to get them myself, what with Carlisle cancelling my allowance and everything. I wouldn't be surprised if he told all my doctors that they weren't to prescribe me anything without his expressed permission, and they would have to give the form to him. With the way he was acting I think that he would have probably also cleared any medication out of the house as well.

He was over-reacting so much. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he nailed my window shut as well as the bathroom window and removed my door. I also wouldn't be surprised if he attached a GPS tracking device if he thought of it, not that I'm going to give him any ideas. I mean, I only tried to kill myself; it's not that big of a deal. He doesn't seem to realise that I would be better off dead, and so would everyone else.

I would have to be more careful next time, be more aware of my surroundings. It wouldn't do for Carlisle to walk in when I had the pills in my hand, ready to take them, like Jasper did. Somehow I don't think Carlisle would blow it off quite as easily as Jasper. He would probably make good on his threat of trying me to the bed, or who knows, with his connections, he could probably get that darned bed from the hospital and keep me attached to that 24/7.

Jasper was a good person. I was glad Bella had him; he would be good for her once I finally get a chance to finish off the job and kill myself. I knew she would be upset for a week or two, and she could lean on Jasper for then, just like Carlisle and Esme would lean on each other. But they would all get over it pretty quickly. They would realise that they were better off without me around, and that I had got what I wanted.

It wouldn't take them long to forget about me altogether, after all, I wasn't a very big or good part of their lives. I was bad for them, a bad influence. I tainted their perfect lives with my imperfectness, and all I ever did for them was bring them pain and suffering. They would be better off without me. Maybe next time I would write a letter, and tell them all this, and order them to just let me die. But I don't think I will, it would just upset them. I would need to be dead for a week or so before they realised by themselves and accepted that, otherwise they would think that I was making things up or something.

I would do it when they left me alone, which they would have to do soon. Carlisle and Esme both had to work, and Bella had school. I had school as well, but they couldn't keep me ther, I would just leave how I normally do, and do it then. I would find a time.

I had so many questions, but no answers. Oh well, I wouldn't live, which was kinda the point.


	10. Chapter 10

Edward POV

I didn't notice anything different when I woke, but by the end of the day I knew it had been one of my splendidly bad ones.

When I looked in the mirror as I was getting ready I admired all the pretty scars and cuts on my skin. They were the only pretty thing about me, why did everyone look beyond the only pretty thing on my and look at all the ugly things? I was supposed to be the only one looking at the ugly things. They weren't supposed to know about the pretty things or the ugly ones, but at least if they had to know and look they could look at the pretty ones.

Maybe they didn't think they were pretty. But how could you not? The newest ones were a result of years of practice and perfecting, and they looked glorious against my skin. I promised myself that I would make more pretty things before the day was up. I promised myself only five, and then I would have to go downstairs and go to school before they came to find me.

It was very hard to stop at only five, so I made sure that they were good, deep ones. They would be at their peak for a while, at the height of their prettiness before fading to the still radiant pretty of the rest. I stopped only by re-assuring myself that I would do many more over the period of the day. No-one could stop me. Maybe if I put enough on me they would finally see the prettiness of them and stop trying to get me to stop.

I got to the school not remembering how I got there. All I could think of was the need to make more pretty things and soon. I barely managed to sit through my first period class. It was one of the longest hours of my life, but at the end I couldn't remember a thing that had happened. I ran to the bathroom, trying to hide my desperation to get there and avoid drawing attention to myself. Attention would only mean that people would try to stop me from going and making more pretty, and the world needed more pretty in it. I would put as much pretty in it as I could before I died, I decided.

I managed to slow dawn to a fast walk when I noticed people starting to look at me, and once I did they seemed to forget that they had seen anything unusual. I really hoped the bathroom was empty...

I slid into the bathroom bordering on breathless and did a quick scan, hoping against hope that there was no-one in there. I was almost lucky, as there was one other person in there, but they were washing their hands, so I wouldn't have to wait too long for them to leave. I hovered impatiently next to the door so I could lock it as soon as they left. I still hadn't processed who it was that was in there with me, but they were taking _so_ long. I mean, honestly, how long can it take to wash your hands?!?! I glared at the figure, my glare softening slightly as I realised that it was Jasper. I couldn't wait any longer, and he wouldn't mind, after all, he had practically said so. I slammed the door shut and locked it quickly, before he could protest.

I suddenly didn't care that someone was in there with me, I _needed_ to cut NOW!!! Jasper be damned, he already knew that I cut, so it shouldn't make much difference if he _saw_ me do it...

I tossed my bag on the floor, frantically searching through it until I found one of the blades I had stashed in there. I ripped my sleeve up to my elbow, faintly registering Jasper's frown out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't care. I swiftly brought the blade across my skin one, two, three, four, five, six times; watching as the cuts swelled with blood and spilled over, quickly releasing the blood down my arms and flowing onto the floor. It was beautiful.

I was brought out of my daze brought on by the pretty as Jasper reached out and grabbed by hand with the blade in it in a firm grip. As I started struggling against his restraining grip he deftly reached out and plucked the blade out of my fist. I stared at him in disbelief; at least in doing that he had cut open my palm, but still!!

I stopped my struggling, defeated. All of a sudden I had no fight left in me, only a foggy sort of hurt. Jasper looked at me sorrowfully, while pocketing the blade he had taken off me. He stared at me until I broke down completely, collapsing onto the floor while scratching at my arms and pathetically sobbing out 'why did you have to stop me'.

It wasn't fair! He was the one person on this earth that I thought I could trust not to stop me, to _understand_ and now he goes and does this. I was unaware of the steadily growing pool of blood around me, or the light-headedness that was staring to affect me until Jasper called my name and I tried to focus on him. I must have given away something in my expression or eyes because his face suddenly took on a slightly worried look before he grabbed my newly pretty arm and held it above my head, grasping the pretties tightly.

"For the blood loss." I faintly heard him say in explanation. My eyes widened in horror. I didn't want to prevent blood loss. If I lost enough blood I would die. Why was he stopping me? I weakly tried to pull my arm down, but Jasper was too strong for me to do anything.

I was muttering "no, why won't you just let me die, please, just let me die!" But all that succeeded in doing was getting Jasper to hold me arm tighter. With his other hand he reached into his bag, pulling out some anti-bacterial wipes and gauze bandages. Releasing my wrist for only long enough to transfer his grip so it wasn't covering any of the pretties he carefully wiped over them with the wipe before binding it tightly with the bandages. Huh, why would he have had bandages in his bag?

"I thought something like this would happen," he said, answering my unspoken question. So he can read minds too, now.

"No, you are speaking aloud." He said. Opps.

The bleeding must have at least slowed, as the bandages weren't getting any redder, so he allowed my arm to drop. I used it to pull my knees to my chest and bury my head in them.

"Looks like we are going to have to sit in here for a while, doesn't it. Not that it really matters to you; you would have left about now anyway. Oh, well, it's only a few classes. I'll live." I looked at him, confused.

"Why do you say that?" I croaked out.

"Well, I doubt that you will want everyone to see you covered in blood-"he looked down pointedly to the puddle of blood we were both sitting in, "-so we can't leave until everyone else has; we have to clean up the blood, so that there want be any intrusive questions as to how it got there, and I can't leave because you would just finish off the job, or at least cut again."

Which brought me back to one of my original questions "why did you stop me?" I asked accusingly.

"Because you are my friend and I _care_ about you, I don't want to see you hurt." I was instantly angered by his answer, scrambling away from him.

"You're just like the others! Feeding me a bunch of lies, trying to get me to trust you, when all you want to do is stop me from doing what I want! Well! I'll show you! Nothing you or anyone else does will ever get me to stop! Never!"

He looked at me sadly, "I have never told you anything but the truth. I don't want to see you hurt. You think you know what you are doing, but you don't, because you care more about dying and hurting than what you do anything else. Do you realise, that the only reason you are not strapped up in some psychiatric ward at the moment,_ with no chance of dying or ever being able to cut again_ is because I convinced them that you would try to get better after I talked to you? That I lied to them to _protect_ you? I have noticed when you have just cut and not told _anyone_. So don't you dare tell me I am not looking out for you. If I hadn't stopped you just then you would have lost enough blood to _at least_ passed out, and then someone would have found you, and there is _no way_ you wouldn't have been sent away!" His voice was low and dangerous, and I curled further into myself, huddling into the corner, not looking at Jasper, just thinking about what he had said. And that is how we stayed for the next few hours, until school was out and mostly everyone had left.

It must have been fifteen minutes after the final bell had rung that Jasper grabbed my arm, again putting pressure where the most recent pretty where and yanked me to my feet. Scowling, I glared at him. I wasn't some small child that couldn't get up by himself, and I wish he would stop treating me like one.

He handed me my bag, casually collecting his own before dragging me unwillingly to his car and forcing me to sit down. He even child-locked my door, the bastard!

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded to know.

"To your house, and no, I won't tell them what happened unless it becomes necessary."

"Why have you locked me in then?" I was getting seriously pissed now.

"Because I wouldn't put it past you to jump out of the car while it is moving." His tone was blunt and no-nonsense, and it annoyed the hell out of me.

"Have you ever considered that I don't want your 'help?'" Spitting out the word 'help' as if it were poison, well, maybe not, seeing as I would just swallow the poison, but you get the idea.

"You may not want it, but you need it." His tone was final, and I could tell that for now, at least, there would be no changing his mind. For today he was still blind to the pretty...

It was then I realised that he still hadn't given me back my blade. He would have to give it back to me. I couldn't lose another one! I had already had to surrender four of them to the clutches of Carlisle, I couldn't afford to lose another one.

I quickly ordered him to give it back, but to no avail, he refused and told me that if I wanted it back I was out of luck, because I wasn't getting it back anytime soon. Disgruntled, I rolled down the window, we were still a good ten minutes away from my house so he wouldn't be able to get help that quickly if I jumped out of the car. I slyly unbuckled my seatbelt, Jasper not noticing and driving along as normal. When I got my widow open I concentrated on reaching out and finding the door handle, so focused on my task that I did not notice Jasper slow down evenly to an unnoticed stop. I grinned triumphantly when my hand found the handle, but that quickly faded when I realised that the car was stationary. How had he noticed? I was being careful!

"Do you want me to have to lock the window shut as well?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow at me. He continued "now, you _will_ get back into this car, and put your seatbelt back on." He reached across and wound up my window before locking it.

He could stop me now, but he couldn't stop me when I was at home. I at least would have those few hours of opportunity tonight. He couldn't stop me then...


	11. Chapter 11

Apologies in advance for the language in this chapter, but you have been warned. I don't normally use language like this but when I'm upset my language tends to get a bit rude, worse depending on how upset I am... And I just found out that my best friend's mother, who I saw as a second mother almost has died, so forgive me for it. Also, sorry for the wait, again.

:,( :,( :,( :,( :,( :,( :,( :,( :,( :,( :,(

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Edward POV

Damn, Damn, **Damn**! I had completely forgotten that Carlisle had promised to check me over for any new marks once a week **(AN// so did I, thanks to **_**AmShe256**_** for reminding me....)** and now he was going to see the multitude of new cuts on my skin. Fuckity fuck fuck. He was going to destroy something _for sure_ this time, maybe any semblance of privacy I still have.

If he removes my door or tries to pull any other shit like that, then I am going to be seriously pissed. And I mean really, it's not like I was doing anything _that_ bad. I mean, I'm not hurting myself any more than what would happen if I fell over, and if you really wanted to get technical, then it was safer 'cause there was no chance of me being stranded anywhere after I broke a leg or anything.

Why does he fucking _have_ to do this? Maybe if I don't remind him he'll forget. That would be good, but seems doubtful. Maybe if I went and locked myself in the bathroom he would just leave me alone... Great idea, if only he hadn't fucking changed the fucking door handle to one without a fucking lock!!

I buried myself under my covers, hoping that if he thought I wasn't asleep he would leave me alone and do it some other time after I had thought of an action plan. I involuntarily stiffened as I heard footsteps down the hall, and my door creak open from its semi-closed position. The light was flicked on and my covers pulled off. OK, so he wasn't going to let me sleep.

I glared at him, giving him my best 'I-hate-you-go-die-in-a-fucking-hole' glare, but he just acted as if he couldn't see it. Fucking bastard. He ordered me to take off my shirt and jeans, and stand with my legs shoulder width apart and arms out parallel to the ground. Fucking hell, as if I was going to do something just because he said I had to. I almost had the upper hand here, he had already taken away my privacy, car, free time, and practically everything else I valued, so he didn't exactly have anything to threaten me with. I could just lie there in my little ball for as long as I wanted, and he couldn't do anything about it.

Except for that. Really, threatening to undress me himself was low, even for him. I mean, really, I have been dressing myself for years; I'm not some fucking three year old!!

Grumbling under my breath, I stood up and reluctantly did as he commanded, but carefully not showing any emotion on my face. Best to let him think that none of the shit he pulled would affect me or what I do.

He frowned at me as he made careful notes on a notebook he had produced out of thin air, noting all the new cuts (a total of 23) and their positioning. Fucking meticulous much?

Why can't he just fucking leave me alone! It doesn't fucking _matter_ what I did to myself. It was nothing more than what I would get if I fell over; it's not such a big deal! Killing myself wasn't such a big thing either, not like how he was trying to make it. We all have to fucking die anyway; all I'm doing is speeding up the process a little. It would be better to die now, when no-one cares, before I have a chance to have a family of my own and people obliged to care for me.

Goddamnit. He was giving me one of _those_ looks. You know the ones that say 'you are in major shit and you aren't getting out of it'? Yeah, one of those ones. Fuck, I'm in for it.

I smirked at him, trying to convey that yeah, he had tried to stop me, and no, it hadn't worked; so now what was he going to do?

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OK, so what do you think Edward's punishment should be? Please let me know. At the moment I have no idea where this story is going, and I'm sorry for the ultra-shortness, but at the moment I really can't find the will in me to do anything really, let alone write anything major. Please let me know about his punishment, cause I am stuck for ideas, but then I've already said that. Please review. Until next time.


	12. Chapter 12

OK, I am so sorry for not updating for so long, I kinda forgot with the mess my life has been lately, so sorry. We just found out that my aunt has grade 3 brain cancer, and my best friends mum just died from a mix of cancers, so, yeah, ummm... Anywhos, you all know I don't own Twilight, if I did I would be a better writer and have more than $10 at any given time.

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Edward POV

Carlisle was looking decidedly devious, contemplating my punishment. I gulped nervously and hoped that he wouldn't notice. Damn it! Why wouldn't he just telling me what my punishment was already!

I resisted the urge to fiddle nervously, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. Should I go along with the punishment or not? Hopefully it wasn't one that I couldn't just ignore.

He started speaking in a slow and calculating but almost gleeful voice. "You are going to be bunking in my room from now on, and either Bella, myself, Esme or someone we appoint is going to be with you at all times, except for when you are in class at school, but Bella will escort you to and from your classes. This will be in effect until I see an improvement in you sufficient enough for me to warrant removing these restrictions. Do you have any questions?" He smirked, as if he knew that he had given me one of the worst punishments possible. I just glared at him and stalked off, pulling my dressing gown on as I left.

Damn him to hell. At least I might be able to convince Bella to let me be _supervised_ by Jasper occasionally. It would be so much fun seeing Carlisle's face at my next 'check-up' when he saw that I had still managed to cut myself even with all his precautions. Jasper would let me cut myself, he had before, so he wasn't about to stop now, right?

The next day...

School was boring, as usual, except now I actually had to _stay _there the _whole_ day, instead of skipping half of it like I usually do. Oh well, thank God for iPods. After school I managed to convince Bella to let me go over to Jasper's to 'study', having asked him earlier that day.

Once we got to Jasper's house we secreted ourselves away in his room, we both did our homework for about an hour, before I put mine down and went off to the bathroom, grabbing my school bag as I went. Jasper didn't seem to notice, at first, but after about eight minutes with twice that many cuts (who knew when I would get my next opportunity?) he came knocking.

"Edward, are you alright in there?"

"Yeah, one sec," I replied grabbing my stuff and vacating the bathroom, neglecting to put a shirt on just yet, it would only get bloody.

I got a disapproving look for my latest efforts, along with a stern "hand over your blades" from Jasper.

Glaring, I did as he ordered, though very reluctantly.

"Is this all you have, you don't have any more at home?"

"That's all of them," I replied, truthfully.

"I can't let you keep doing this Edward, you need to stop. You're killing yourself slowly, can't you see that?"

"Have you considered that maybe I _want _to die?"

"You may feel like that now, but how about later on, when this has all passed, or on one of your better days, do you really want to die, and leave behind any chance of having a good life, of actually living? Or do you want to waste away. You don't eat, you either get too much or not enough sleep, you cut yourself to ribbons... I don't think you have a limb left that _doesn't_ have at least one scar on it by now. There is nothing saying you have to go on like this, no one would think any less of you if you wanted to stop, or said you needed help and actually accepted help."

"Maybe I don't _want_ to get better, I just want to die! Just because I haven't tried in the past week doesn't mean I suddenly don't want to anymore! Why can't you just all accept that! Even if you must stop me from killing myself, you all could still let me cut myself, it's not as though it is such a big deal, I would get exactly the same thing if I fell over or something! Why can't you just leave me alone! I don't want to stop, why can't you accept that?"

"It's not so much _how_ you get the cuts, it's more of the principle behind it, and people would fuss over you if you got a cut like some of the ones you are inflicting upon _yourself. _I _know_ what it is like to do something like this. I _know_, remember. And I am also living proof that if you try hard enough, even if at first you don't want to, you can get over this addiction."

"It's not an _addiction_. I could stop anytime I wanted to."

"Yes, it is, Edward. Just think about what I said, OK."

That night, lying awake in my bed, I did, reluctantly think about it...

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Not very long, not very good, but at least I got it out. Let me know what you think?? Please?? Going off to kill myself slowly now...


	13. Chapter 13

Edward POV

I had my plan. It was perfect, infallible. I was going to die my hair a different colour, and get it styled differently at a hairdresser away from where anyone I know normally went; then, I would drive out into the outskirts of town, dump my car and call a taxi. I would get them to drop me off somewhere in the bush, and bush bash for a while, until I was certain that I couldn't be seen from the path. I would place the note I had pre-written in my pocket where it would be easily found. And then I would do it.

The note would read that I had done this to myself, and that even with their full efforts they weren't able to stop me from finally completing my goal. It would take a while before they realised it was me, after me disguising myself.

I would use the same method I had originally used, but this time no one would find me and be able to stop me; I had managed to acquire blades from the house, of course, without anyone noticing. The blood would flow freely from my veins, and I would relish in the pain and finality of it. It would finally be over...

The plan worked without a hitch.

* * *

Wow, I actually finished it!! Sorry if the ending is a bit disappointing, but at the moment it is it. I hope you all enjoyed my story, let me know what you think!

Until next time...

BfO


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